Six months later, I was scrambling around her kitchen, desperately trying to get this right.
"Just dip the chicken in the egg then the breadcrumbs," my mum instructed me over the phone I had propped up on the counter. The sweat had already begun forming on my forehead. I couldn't cook to save my life, but I was convinced this was the way I needed to do this.
"Sweetheart, wipe your face before you get it in the sauce," my mom advised. This was probably the most thankful I have ever been for FaceTime. Without my moms guide I would've never been able to manage this.
I heard keys rattle in the door. "Crap mum. I gotta go. She's home. Thank you so much for all the help."
"You've got this dear. Call me in the morning."
I end the call and turn music on just as she walks into the kitchen.
"Oh wow. It smells amazing in here," she commends before pecking me on the cheek. "I didn't know you cooked."
"To be honest I don't." I adjust the hem of my button down I specifically bought in her favorite color. "I wanted to surprise you though," I admit.
"Aw babe. This is a surprise and I love it. Also you seem to be doing just fine so don't let me stop you." She ruffles my hair like I'm a puppy and disappears into the bedroom. After a couple minutes, she emerges in what was actually a simple sundress, but on her it was stunning. The flecks of purple in the flowers matched perfectly with my shirt.
"I just thought this was the perfect outfit considering you were so dressed up," she did a little twirl and I think I died a bit. "Seriously what's with all the fancy Harry?"
"Sssh," I silenced her.
"What you hate this song," she complains.
"I'm focusing on the chicks," I mutter. I flip them over in the pan, hoping the bottoms weren't burned.
"You need silence to do that," she makes her way beside me, stirring the sauce I had forgotten about.
"This is difficult for me." I return the fork to the counter and wrap my arms around her waist. As if on cue the song changes. A ballad that perfectly describes how I feel about this woman before me. She may have flaws in her eyes, but to me there's nothing about her that doesn't blow my mind. I rest my head on her shoulder and we begin to sway.
"All your perfect imperfections," she sang. It may have been out of tune proving singing isn't one of her strong suits, but it was still wonderful to my ears. She turned to face me, eyes glued to mine. Those indeed were one of the amazing things about her. I'd never been one for eye contact or noticing the minute details of someone's eye color, but hers were the blue that stopped you dead. The blue that almost looked grey until sunlight hit them just right and they sparkled with bits of the rainbow.
We danced for a moment longer not breaking our connection. The moment felt so right. I couldn't wait.
"Will you marry me?" I ask, as my lungs cease to pull in oxygen.
"What," she gasps. She stops moving and stares up at me in shock.
"Will will you marry me," I stammer out, suddenly afraid she didn't want me anymore.
"Harry," she whispers. "I would love to marry you.
I feel my shoulders relax as I grab her cheeks and crash my lips into hers. Life couldn't get any better at the moment.
Then I realized I burnt the chicken.
